My hand shook as I picked up the coupe. A good sign. I
couldn’t remember what number drink it was. Also a good sign. I closed my eyes
and tipped my head back. The cold, sugary, boozy, magical liquid ran crackling
over my tongue and cascaded down my throat. I felt it tingle all the way down
before it settled in my stomach and another wave of warmth flowed out to the
tips of my fingers and toes. My face relaxed and I smiled. I put the fragile
glass back down on the marble bar.
“Ahhhh,” I sighed with satisfaction.
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